


Honey, Are You Looking For Some Trouble Tonight?

by Twisted_Barbie



Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: M/M, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 21:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5021329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twisted_Barbie/pseuds/Twisted_Barbie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being in the wrong place at the wrong time isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Shameless PWP </p>
<p>Set in the ether after series one but before series two</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honey, Are You Looking For Some Trouble Tonight?

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Just Like Jesse James-Cher 
> 
> Ran into a few problems while writing I Once Had a Best Friend Who’s Now a Stranger and I found this unfinished on my computer so I finished it and hope you enjoy while I get my other story back on track.

The squalor of the alleyway always caught his eye first and then the smell was soon to follow, a rancid mix of piss, sweat and semen. The ladies wearing too much make-up and not enough clothing that lined the walls of *Gropecunt Lane no longer lifted their skirts at his approach as they had become familiar with him and knew he was neither threat nor customer. 

He hefted the burlap sack further up his shoulder and walked down the dead-end lane without a care. The smell did not bother him and neither did the women with dead-behind-the eyes vacant stares as this was all perfectly natural to him it almost felt like home. Like the people of Locksley were Robin’s people, those struggling to make a living residing in the gutter were his people.

He walks three quarters of the way down where there is a lope-sided table that the ladies use for gaming when the work is slow and he empties the sack full of bread and cheese onto it. There is no rush for the food as there never is as the ladies bellies are filled with alcohol. Robin had once thought to give them coin to help as they tried to devise the best way to give back to the poor but he knew better. Coins in Gropecunt were used to buy alcohol to numb the pain of their profession so they could earn coin, which would later be spent on alcohol, it was a vicious circle. 

They usually made drop-offs together as a gang with safety in numbers however their little gang had been going strong for almost a year that when they were out together they were conspicuous so a new plan was devised. Robin would take care of the needs of the people in Locksley; while Little John would see to Clun and the villages to the west while Djaq would go to Nettlestone and the villages to the east and each week they would alternate and change days so a routine was never formed. Will was tasked with keeping small business afloat and keeping prices low while Much took care of the farmers, making sure food stores were good and keeping prices low for the poor. He got Nottingham, the cesspool itself, not that he was complaining, after all he was the one that had suggested it. 

He can’t imagine someone like Robin making a drop-off in Gropecunt Lane, and Much would have an aneurysm. John was perhaps the best prepared but the big man wore his heart on his sleeve and the ladies would have him for breakfast. Will was too sweet and pure and they’d eat him alive and though he believed Djaq could do the job proficiently, the fact that she was a woman would go against her and she could be hurt if the ladies believed her to be competition and had come to take their spot. 

A young female eyes the food on the table and he doesn’t recognise her so she must be new which also explained why such a pretty little thing was so far down the lane. In Gropecunt you earned your spot along the wall and the women at the opening of the alleyway had either worked the streets the longest or earned the most coin, which usually went hand in hand. He sends a smile to the shy girl and turns around to leave as all his drop-offs were completed and out of the corner of his eye he sees her approach the table. 

He considers informing Robin about her as she was clearly new and as yet unsullied by the street life and had yet to form a dependency on alcohol. He does truly believe she can be saved and he thinks Robin’s positivity is finally rubbing off on him. 

He kisses the back of Mable’s- a prostitute he has known since his youth- hand as he goes to exit the street and stops in his tracks as he sees Sir Guy of Gisborne stomping towards the alleyway. He turns back as yet unseen and knows that fleeing would encourage Guy to chase him and he cannot flee the other way as that was a dead end. 

He throws the burlap sack onto the ground and leans against the wall, turning his face to the shadows and hoping beyond hope that Guy was simply walking by. He watches the girls at the mouth of the alley come to life showing leg and some showing even more to tempt a male close-by and as his piss-poor luck would have it Guy appears. 

The Sheriff’s lieutenant is six foot two of pent up aggression wrapped in leather. His face is shrouded in shadows but his intent is obvious as he walks passed Mable and the two blondes stood next to her and briefly stops to assess the brunette. The lass before Guy begrudgingly lifts her skirt but Guy turns from her and carries on along the wall stopping at the next brunette. 

He should flee while Guy is distracted but he is too far down the wall not to be obvious and one thing he has learnt from being with Robin is sometimes hiding in plain sight is the best place to be. Of course he no longer has the luxury of lifting a hood and turning his back but with his face in shadow and the fact that Guy is eyeing the woman against the opposite wall he is sure to find someone to his liking before he comes to him. 

He hears whimpering and sees that Guy has the new lass against the wall holding her by the throat. His hands clench into fists as he watches Guy study her but for whatever reason he releases her and moves on. He is clearly a man on a mission as he walks by the table laden with food and does not notice and instead considers the next dark-haired lass he comes across. 

It dawns on him then that he is trying to find a Marian substitute. Rumour had it Marian not only left him at the altar but only went and punched him in the face knocking him on his arse adding insult to injury. Hats off to him for returning to work the next day cold and menacing as though nothing had happened. He can’t imagine how humiliating it must be to be Guy, a Lord of repossessed lands and obsessed with a woman who was in love with his enemy. How he shows his face in public is beyond him but he’s an ambitious man that couldn’t earn the people’s love so he encouraged their hate. 

Guy makes it to the end of the alleyway and turns his attention to the opposite wall and begins to walk up. He worries that if he is indeed looking for a Marian substitute he may hurt her and he could not stand for that. He hopes Guy’s mission is in vain and he leaves without slaking his lust but no one visits Gropecunt just to turn away. Gropecunt was the lowest of the low, beneath housemaids and tavern wenches, the place stank of desperation and the offer of a quick fix. 

Guy is still assessing dark haired lasses and the blondes and gingers look to the heavens in relief so he can only assume Guy has been here before. He is moving ever closer to his position so he keeps his eyes to the floor but juts his hip out playing a role he hopes Guy will ignore. If he passed a table of food he could easily pass by him as he is clearly not what Guy is looking for this evening being blond and male. 

It was not unheard of having males line the wall in Gropecunt, as it was a position he was familiar with but it was a niche market and you were lucky if you left with any money never mind all your teeth. The men that sought other men always seemed to be ignorant assholes that had drunk too much just to have the courage to do as they wanted and afterwards they would be in denial and become abusive and sometimes violent. 

Being with Robin he had bettered himself and he never thought he’d regress back to the gutter but here he was. Thankfully it was all a sham and he wasn’t back at the bottom of the food chain mind you he wouldn’t mind being in Scarborough spending Gisborne’s money, but as any good thief knows Lady Luck was a fickle bitch. 

Guy approaches and he keeps his hip out with his undershirt slightly raised and eyes down hoping the Master at Arms does not pay close attention. Guy stops before him and his heart beats frantically in his chest but he is calling for no guards. Perhaps he has never seen a man sell himself before and he has been caught unaware. He squeezes his eyes shut as a leather gloved hand grabs his chin and turns his face into the orange glow of the street light. There is still no cry for the guards and no movement as far as he can tell and he is unsure if he has been recognised. 

He opens his eyes to find Guy leaning down staring intently at him with ice blue eyes made more striking by the kohl smeared around them. He should talk, name his price and play the role but fear stills his tongue. Guy seems indecisive and unkempt with tussled black hair and facial hair growing unchecked. As long as he has known him he has always had stubble around his mouth and chops but never to this extent. He looks ill but then his skin was always pale and unblemished and in the glow of the torchlight he might even pass as pretty, not that he would say such things, he liked his head on his shoulders thanks very much. 

Guy releases his chin and for a fraction of a second he thinks he has failed Guy’s assessment until he feels the man’s hand on his jutting hip and Guy pushes him forcing him to turn and face the wall. He braces himself against the wall, palms flat against the wood above his head as Guy’s hands work diligently on the laces of his breeches. 

He focuses on his breathing and tries to still the tremors of terror in his limbs as he was unprepared to lie with a man. Guy loosens the laces and his breeches fall down to his ankles without ceremony as he’s been wasting away for the best part of three months living off Much’s meagre scraps. Guy seems amused as he spanks him playfully and rubs over the mark he undoubtedly left. 

His breath catches in his throat as Guy kicks at his foot forcing him to spread his legs further. His still gloved hands continue to explore and caress his ass and he’s thankful for the layer of protection even as thin and worn as the leather was it put much needed distance between them.

“Am I your first tonight?” Guy asks huskily, his breath hot and moist against his ear as his finger pushes against his unprepared hole. 

He struggles to reply as Guy rubs teasingly over his opening and he cannot gauge what answer he would like to hear. “Yes milord,” he finally replies gravelly to disguise his voice. 

Guy removes his hands and he hears the squeak of leather as Guy shifts behind him. He’s unsure what the absence of his hands mean and he’s too scared to look over his shoulder and enquire. Instead he turns his attention to a mark above his right hand and wonders if it is a stain or a knot in the wood to steady his nerves as he waits for Guy to act. 

Guy’s hands return to his body, his left coming to rest on his hip while his right hand still gloved and now wet runs up his exposed muscular thigh and rubs his opening once more. Why the man had oil with him was questionable but he thought perhaps that he failed to arouse women and make them wet so he took oil as a precaution. If that were true then he was thankful for Guy’s sexual failure as an oiled finger presses inside him promising a less harmful rendezvous with the Master at Arms. 

Impatiently Guy presses a second finger inside him proving his previous thought false and his fingernails scratch down the wall as his back tenses. “Have you been with a man before?” Guy questions standoffishly, clearly unimpressed with his reaction. The majority of the men he had been with liked simpering virgins but Guy’s reaction suggested he was in the minority. Guy had come to Gropecunt for a seasoned whore, especially if it was true and he failed to arouse his partners. The prospect of a virgin would just put pressure on him and though he would be pleased if Guy left he would only inflict himself on some poor other sod. He was the good guy here, a dashing hero come to save the day or at least that’s what he’ll say about taking one for his people. A right little Robin Hood he was turning out to be. 

He shakes his head vehemently and adds a derisive snort for good measure and pushes back against Guy’s fingers. He enjoys the noise of surprise Guy makes as he actively impales himself shifting the balance of power between them into his favour. Guy continues to hold still encouraging him to fuck himself on his fingers and it should be shameful but he cannot find it within him to care as he seeks his own pleasure using Guy as a means to an end. 

“Ready for my cock now?” The question almost bowls him over and there is no denying the swell of desire in his groin from hearing his deep voice speak such filth. He nods perhaps too enthusiastically as Guy laughs in a huff and removes his fingers. He listens for the crease of leather as Guy undoubtedly unbuttons his trousers and releases his cock. He can hear movement and assumes Guy has taken himself in hand, slicking his cock with oil. 

His earlier trepidation gives way to excitement as he had gone too long without the touch of another. Guy closes in behind him and he feels the blunt head of his cock press insistently against his opening. He tries to relax and groans as his passage is breached and Guy presses forward, pushing his cock inside him while his left hand pins both of his wrists against the wall while his right grips his hip pulling him back against him. 

He hisses in a mixture of pain and pleasure as Guy presses in to the hilt and gives his own breathy moan before his lips are against his neck and his tongue travels up the pale column of his throat. He’s thankful that he otherwise remains still allowing him to adjust to his size and appreciate the sensation of being full. It had been a while without the touch of another and far too long without the touch of a man. He had missed having a strong and powerful lover and Guy was perhaps the most powerful he had ever lain with considering his social standing as well as his physique. It was exciting having the weight of Gisborne against his back while his hand effortlessly held his wrists above his head. 

The first thrust of Guy’s hips is shallow and experimental as he pauses his assault on his neck to gauge his reaction. He wants to cry out an affirmative but he was unsure if Guy would like a vocal lover and voicing his enjoyment was not done as he was here for Guy’s pleasure and not his own. He was lucky Guy was sympathetic to his plight of being woefully unprepared and had shown him mercy while no man purchasing pleasure in Gropecunt had ever shown him mercy before. They would have sought satisfaction in his pain and before tonight he would have accused Guy of the same but it seemed there was more to the Master at Arms than meets the eye. 

Guy’s mouth moves against his neck, his breath hot against his perspiring skin and he thinks he frames words with his lips but gives them no voice. He drops his head back surrendering himself to Guy’s hungry mouth as Guy’s hips start to rock tentatively. The hand on his hip slowly begins to move, sliding over his exposed abdomen where his shirt had ridden up and then up and under his shirt. Guy presses his hand against the flat on his stomach and then glides higher over the valley of his ribs towards his right pectoral and he rubs his thumb over his nipple and he feels the rosy nub tighten as he shivers in response. 

Guy makes an appreciative noise against his neck and gently nips his skin clearly delighting in the way his body shook from pleasure. His hand begins to move to the left clearly venturing off to the other pectoral and he is struck with the sudden realisation that his pendant identifying him as one of Robin’s men is hidden beneath his shirt resting against his sternum. 

He pulls his hand away from Guy’s slack grip and immediately grabs his exploring hand and pulls it down to his semi-hard cock. He encourages him to take him in hand, wrapping his fingers around his shaft and then placing his hand over his guiding his hand up and down. Guy seems fond of him showing initiative when he was under no obligation to pleasure him or concede to his desires but he does so anyway. 

The close call reminds him of just how dangerous this encounter was and he is shamelessly aroused by the thought of being caught. Should his identity be discovered his life would surely be forfeit and he finds the prospect thrilling with his life balanced on a knife edge. 

He’s snapped from his thoughts as Guy pushes him up against the wall and thrusts into him with wild abandon. There’s just enough space between his hips and the wall so Guy can maintain his grip on his erection but he does not stroke and his hold is loose barely touching him. He still pins one of his wrists to the wall as he harshly fucks him, dropping his head down onto the back of his neck no doubt watching his cock disappearing inside of him.

He’s ashamed of the wrecked sound he makes and their harsh breathing as well as the slap of skin against bare skin. He’s ashamed of himself by being stirred from the rough handling but Guy’s ardent passion ignites his blood and perhaps he has been too long in Robin’s shadow but he needed Guy’s desire. He wasn’t a nonentity in the here and now, Guy could see him, Guy was stirred by him and he in turn was stirred by the Master at Arm’s desperation for him. 

Guy’s thrusts slow as though he has changed his mind like a child given too many options. Instead he pulls him away from the wall and against him, with the buckles of his leather vest pressing awkwardly against his back. He turns his head questioningly and Guy captures his lips with his own and he reaches back with his right hand grabbing a hold of Guy’s tussled dark locks and holds him still while his left hand also reaches back, grabbing Guy’s bare ass and pulling him against him. 

Guy’s grip on his cock becomes firm again and he begins to stroke with his thumb teasing over the slit on every up stroke. He can’t help but moan into his mouth and nip Guy’s lip as he breaks the kiss to press kisses across his cheek and jaw and down his neck, occasionally returning to his mouth. 

Guy rolls his hips and his hand unintentionally tightens in Guy’s hair tugging harshly forcing a groan from Guy’s throat. He pulls again and Guy returns the gesture by moving his hips once more striking his prostate and making him see stars. He embarrasses himself with the needy sounds he makes as Guy mercilessly attacks his prostate so he deliberately pulls his hair and crushes their mouths together allowing Guy to swallow his shameful whimpers. 

Before long he is spilling his seed on Guy’s glove and against the wall while Guy hums in approval, flicking his tongue over his lips like a satisfied cat. His left hand clutches Guy’s ass undoubtedly leaving half moon indents on his pasty skin as he encourages him to take him harder and reach completion. 

His encouragement is ignored as Guy continues to do as he pleases but he can feel the tense limbs and faltering movements and knows that he is close. Guy covers his mouth once more sucking on his lower lip and worrying it between his teeth as he cums spilling his hot seed inside his used body. Guy then rests his head on his shoulder, licking at the perspiration on his neck as he basks in the afterglow and waits to compose himself. 

They could almost be mistaken for lovers by the way Guy behaves. He had thought he would become disgusted with himself for his sick perversion and try to distance himself as soon as possible instead of holding him from behind and resting against him as though he gained pleasure from his company. 

With a final kiss to his neck Guy finally releases him and removes his softening cock from his ass. He shifts in discomfort as Guy pulls up his leathers and buttons them and then presses himself against his back once more, wiping his soiled glove onto his thigh before passing him a pouch full of coins. 

He accepts it gratefully and wonders if it is silver or gold though he highly doubts gold. No one brings gold to Gropecunt Lane. Guy’s hesitation to leave is worrisome and he turns his head to share a lingering kiss that seemed different from the others before. When it ends Guy presses a brief kiss against his covered shoulder and steps back. 

“The next time I catch you, Allan-a-Dale, it will not be so pleasurable.” He turns at the use of his name almost tripping on his breeches still around his ankles. He stares at Guy in horror as the Master at Arms regards him with a smirk with malicious glee sparkling in his eyes. “Tell Robin I said hi,” he says amused clearly pleased with himself and then takes his leave without saying goodbye. 

He watches him leave in a state of shock with his trousers still around his ankles and his jaw wide open. Guy had known who he was the entire time, no wonder he turned his face to the light he was not assessing him he was confirming his suspicion. Why the ruse? Why did he not arrest him? 

His mind races with the questions and he pulls his breeches up and laces them once more. He turns to collect his burlap sack and finds some of his seed had fallen on it and ruined it. He squeezes his eyes shut as things begin to go from bad to worse but it was nice hearing coins as he moved. He opens his eyes once more and peers into the pouch and sure enough it is filled with silver, forty pieces at a guess but he could not keep it. 

How could he explain his ill gotten gains to Robin? He got into a scuffle with some guards while robbing from the rich? Even if he had a worthy story Robin would see the wealth given to the poor while they shivered in the woods with dead leaves for beds and squirrel for breakfast. No, he had earned these coins and if he had to part with them so be it but it would be under his own terms. 

He takes a coin from the bag and reties it and then leaves his position and walks towards the table still laden with food. The new girl is there stuffing bread into her mouth as he approaches and her green eyes widen in fear and she swallows quickly blinking back tears.

“Here,” he says offering her the pouch. Cautiously she takes it and peaks inside looking back at him in wonder and he understands in that moment why Robin does what he does. “I’m with Robin Hood; this place is not for you. If you need help get to Locksley tomorrow and Robin will see you right, now take some bread and get out of here.” She does as he says and scarpers from the alley and he realises he never asked for her name.

He shrugs and makes his way out of the alley stopping by Mable who eyes him suspiciously as he presses a coin into her hand. “Have a drink on me,” he says with a wink and leaves Gropecunt Lane with a limp and no burlap sack. He would have to tell Robin that he was tumbled and he only hoped he could keep a straight face when he said it. 

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> *Gropecunt Lane was a street name found in English towns and cities during the Middle Ages believed to be a reference to the prostitution centred on those areas. It was normal practice for a medieval street name to reflect the street's function or the economic activity taking place within it.


End file.
